The natural intelligence shoots to the trees magnificence. The microfibres sweetening the roots, longing tentacles crawling in the fertile soil.

Silent whispers, scattering and sharing greetings between the Oak and Redwood trees. The sacred Sawumi Forest was a clear sandy 5 mile stretch from the Kwayus Tower House. An 8 storey block, multi-coloured groves secured and in the vast oasis of the blue Basi river.

Continue reading “Kwayus”


6am, the weather was crisp as plantain chips. Enough bite to attend the lazy drawl. Enough bite to attend the gusto call. The walk from Basa’s flat was serene.

Up on top of the wall, a two-tone brown feline caught sight of him. The four-legged chap turned around wagging its tail at Basa, strolling off:

Feline – Nuh mate, what are you looking at?
Basa – Boss, I don’t know who you are talking to.
Feline – That’s rude. I can’t see no one else in view.
Basa – You assumed I was looking at you, whilst I was taking in the scenery.
Feline – Whatever, clever clogs.

Continue reading “Fam”


The sparkling stars from light years pierced the heights in the firmament, king star Moon nearer Earth shone feathered white in full bloom.

Drawings on its surface, the shaping mass of earth’s continents. Reflections on Lake Gasai, waves causing ripples, the seahorses danced to the natural sonics below.

2am, the dawn of a new month, when all are temporarily asleep, not the nocturnal Katanka though. He stood at the top window of the family of fours cavern, 500 metres away from Lake Gasai.

Continue reading “Hush”

Flat 65

Sanuday lived in the 15th floor tower block. Her physical home was on the 9th, overlooking the picturesque caves, hills and cottages of Napa City. She celebrated her 35th, a few weeks ago. Friends and family threw her an unforgettable party at the cultural centre in Kwen Common. Her eyes to the sky, reminiscing as she sat on the balcony.

A seasoned seamstress, she worked from home, the clientele spanned the levels of society. A wax print, an ntuma (dress) by Sanuday was a collectors item, now! She had sown a nobilis tracksuit for Babaa, her daughter and friend of 18 years, who left for the University of Gowe to study carpentry that morning.

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The ancient

A premonition was a far fetched notion for a child, it doesn’t mean coming into fruition but a slice of the future, nonetheless.

Dashia was 2 years of age and had an insight of his path towards education, from ages 3 to 16, he’d be in compulsory schooling. This young man was given the title of ‘Lawo’, old soul in Ggeji, a language his parents spoke at home. 

With hieroglyphs, as in Egypt, sorry Kemet, how did he even? Anyways.

Continue reading “The ancient”